Review of The Historical Jesus: Five Views. Jesus and the Challenge of Collaborative Eschatology by John Dominic Crossan

Chapter Two of The Historical Jesus: Five Views is by John Dominic Crossan, and it offers everything we’ve come to expect of Crossan, whether in terms of methodology, content, sharp wit or memorable turns of phrase. Crossan begins with the statement “The historical Jesus was a Galilean Jew within Judaism within the Roman Empire. That, for me, has always been the necessary methodological matrix rather than the unnecessary historical background for any discussion of that first-century figure” (p.105). The importance of context can be seen simply in the fact that almost half of the chapter is focused on context, on that which existed before, around, and apart from, but eventually alongside, Jesus. Crossan states that he tries to imagine the world as it was before Jesus appeared on the scene, apart from Jesus and without considering him yet, and then bring Jesus into the picture in order to understand him in relation to his historical, social, cultural, political and economic setting.

I will not attempt to replicate what is already a condensed historical overview. I will simply emphasize that, in asking the question he explicitly poses on p.112, “Why did Jesus happen when he happened? Why then? Why there?”, Crossan is led to ask a number of other related questions that too few historians focused on Jesus ask, for instance about the reasons why Herod Antipas moved his capital to a new city, named in honor of the emperor, and placed it near the sea, and how this relates to Jesus’ activity near the same sea, involving disciples from towns on its shore. Crossan also discusses the broader historical picture of Herodian involvement in Roman politics.

Crossan then moves on to the figure of John the Baptist, referring to him as “an apocalyptic eschatologist who proclaimed the imminent arrival of God’s kingdom” (p.116). In one of his colorful phrases, he will refer to John having a “monopoly” (he alone baptized) while Jesus is said to have had a “franchise” (encouraging others to spread his practices without and apart from him; see p.126). Of course, at this point the evidence for other baptizing groups within Judaism in this period ought to be discussed, and it might lead to a qualification of Crossan’s statement, if not indeed its revision.

As he moves to the transition from John to Jesus, Crossan notes the prevalent notion of a Davidic Messiah as a warrior king (citing John J. Collins, known for his work on Jewish Messianism). This is of course a point at which the mythicist enterprise runs aground, its proponents seemingly unaware of just how obvious the prevalence of this idea seems to those familiar with the literature from this period. And of course, the fact that this historical Jesus does not fit this ideal type, and yet is nevertheless spoken of by the earliest Christian authors in terms of these categories, strikes most of us as important historical data.

Crossan interprets this in terms of a fairly radical shift in emphasis in Jesus’ outlook. At some point, as is demonstrated by his baptism by John, Jesus accepted John’s eschatological viewpoint (p.124). But he later abandoned it, perhaps in light of John’s own death. Jesus’ own vision of the kingdom is of a phenomenon that may have other-worldly origins, but it has this-worldly effects and implications. Jesus’ eschatology is described as “collaborative” – the change that is proclaimed will only happen if those who hear him participate in making it happen.

Crossan also offers a discussion of the distinction between disease and illness, addressing which Jesus “treated.” The chapter concludes with a statement that is as provocative and intriguing as anything else in the chapter. Crossan refers to Pilate as “the most important commentator on Jesus in the New Testament” (p.132). The fact that Pilate killed Jesus but did not round up his followers indicates that he did not view Jesus as leading a violent revolutionary movement, which would have required the apprehension of his supporters. This ties in closely with Crossan’s understanding of Jesus as a figure of non-violent protest.

The responses offer some helpful challenges and contrasts to Crossan’s portrait. Price makes an important point using two metaphors: Crossan’s authentic Jesus sayings are likened to autumn leaves floating in a puddle. There is more water than leaves, and after stirring up the water, “When he likes the emerging Rorschach pattern, he takes a snap show, and that is the ‘historical rain puddle'” (p.134). He also uses the analogy of construction, with there being only a few fragments of bricks held together by a far greater quantity of cement. Most historical Jesus scholars would acknowledge that there is something to these images. We have a relatively small number of actions and sayings which inspire great confidence as regards their authenticity, with quite a few more that could well be historical but are far less certain. And so there is a great deal of leeway for historians to (re)construct Jesus using their creativity and imagination, and hence we end up with widely divergent portraits. It is a shame that Price’s determination to backtrack on his own analogies, and write as though there were no leaves and no brick chips at all, no pieces of reliable data however few, detracts from what would otherwise have been an important and insightful point.

Other respondents make a related point about Crossan finding in Jesus a figure who reflects a great deal of Crossan himself and of our own context today. Not only is his Jesus subject to such criticism, but so too is his depiction of Roman political and economic realities (see e.g. pp.140-141). More than one respondent also addressed Crossan’s statements about Meier and the latter’s attempt at holding on to the authenticity of both futuristic and realized eschatology in sayings attributed to Jesus.

Although I am certain that these criticisms of Crossan are not unfair, I also wonder whether they are not so universally applicable as to have little force. If a historian is to do anything (re)constructive with historical data, then we have no choice but to attempt to come up with an understanding of people and events, even speculating about motives even though in most instances we have no explicit first-hand testimony about them. If we do this, we will inevitably serve as a lens that distorts the picture as well as hopefully bringing some of it into clearer and sharper focus. And so perhaps we should simply accept as given (with appropriate regular reminders) that we all see from a personal, historical and cultural vantage point, and then get on with discussing whether the portrait we paint from where we stand is persuasive and accurate.

In concluding my discussion of this chapter, let me offer just a couple of points that I think could be fruitful avenues for further research. First, Crossan asks why John and Jesus appear at the particular juncture in history when they do. It seems that the influence of the Book of Daniel is important. Daniel’s prediction of divine intervention has often been quoted by apologists as evidence that Jesus fulfills prophecy. Perhaps this has led more mainstream scholarship to steer clear of this topic. But it deserves to be considered that John and Jesus may have been inspired to speak of God’s kingdom arriving in the lifetime of their hearers precisely because they believed that the Book of Daniel pointed to such things happening in their time. The influence of this book may have sparked not only the movements of John the Baptist and Jesus, but the variety of other figures mentioned by Josephus and other sources as all having arisen in a relatively brief period – not to mention perhaps providing some impetus to the Jewish war as well.

Second, it seems to me that the “apocalyptic” outlook of John, contrasted with the “collaborative” eschatology of Jesus, needs to be rethought in John’s case as well as that of Jesus. John’s prediction of one who would come after him and winnow out the chaff, purify the nation, and “clean up” may point to an expectation that a human figure (presumed to be aided by God, of course) would arise to do these things, rather than envisaging a direct, unmediated divine intervention that would bring about the “end of the world.” On the other hand, Jesus’ own statements and actions could perhaps fit better than John’s into the category of expectations that focus on simply preparing oneselves and waiting for God to do something that it is believed only God can. And so perhaps a case could be made that John is more “collaborative” and Jesus more “apocalyptic.” Whether that case would ultimately be found convincing is another matter, but I think it deserves a closer look.

Whether or not one finds the details of Crossan’s portrait of Jesus persuasive, however, I doubt that anyone who reads it will fail to encounter new and interesting insights, or will fail to find themselves challenged to ask neglected yet important questions not only about the Jesus material and its authenticity, but about the Jewish and Roman contexts within which the historical figure of Jesus must fit if he is to have any plausibility whatsoever.